


Run Away

by orphan_account



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Child Abandonment, Domestic Fluff, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-01-09 07:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12272007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: With Camp having ended prematurely, it leaves two people forced into a situation were they must reveal more to each other then they hoped would ever be necessary. Will love find a way in a place it has no business being, and will they have the nerve to fight through dangerous sometime bloody scenarios? Of course they will, this is me we're talking about here.





	1. Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy what is looking to be longest work yet. As much as I love our two favorite boy's canon dynamics I've decide to freeform it a little to match the way this story is going to go. Be sure to leave a comment to let me know what you think as these stories are for you more an me and they greatly impact my future writing. There are going to be some dark themes for most of this fic and there will be a few trigger warnings along the way so look for them at the beginning of each chapter. With that, enjoy.

“Keep him.” 

Silence. 

The line was dead. No calls went through after that. No auxiliary numbers connected, or distant relatives available. Max was alone. Abandoned. Now thanks to the call Gwen had forced David to make he would become a ward of the state, and taken away to be lost in the foster care system like so many other forgotten youths before him. If he was just a little younger, even just less abrasive, he might have had a shot. 

Infants usually had it best since every newfound family had to have a baby, something to coddle. Toddlers were still cute without being too much to deal with and fun to watch lumber around. Teens were moody sure but at least they did chores, and young adults found themselves in group homes contributing to a unit. Kids though were often damaged goods. No one wants an apple covered in bruises. Being so old yet stuck before maturity meant very few families would be willing to accommodate him. Once his reputation as a troubled youth got around to the would-be guardians; he was sure to be spending many nights in temporary homes awaiting a family that may never come, only to end cast out or soon to be locked away. All save for the threat of jail he would be just like David had been at that age.

Like many similar products of neglect and a less than exemplary upbringing, David had his fair share of negative features, the least of which being his naïveté. As unlikely as it had seemed at the time it was Camp Campbell that became the saving grace which had kept little Davy from spiraling into a similar path of abuse, and lashing out at a world that could’ve gotten along just fine without him. In the forests of Lake Lilac he had found that what made life worth living was whatever good you yourself could get out of it, and as a result maintained a constant state of chipper attitude and cheery disposition both for himself and for those around him. He was a firm believer in that old adage about working hard and reaping the sweat of your brow. It also helped that helping others made him feel the most useful, and least like the insecure fuck-up he surely was. Low and behold it only made sense that just as things seemed like they had worked out and he could relax doing what he loved that it all came to an end. 

Camp Campbell had now only two occupants for the short remainder of its existence. What had once been a dream come true, a place where life at last didn’t seem like such a burden, was now just a reminder of wasted potential and a slew of possible futures that would never be. Thanks to Mr. Campbell’s habits the property was being sold off to repay his massive debts. All this leaving David clueless as to the heading his life should now take. Even if he had the means to obtain the camp, it was unlikely that anything could be done with it. The authorities being what they were would never allow the place to resume its status as a summer camp. He had briefly considered taking out a loan to purchase the property anyway and preserve it as some sort of physical memory of his past, of all the great times he’d had there. By the end of this logic however he decided it would only turn into a monument to this one occasion, a climactic build up to disappointment, a reoccurring reminder of the way chaos can sometimes masquerade as control. Control being something he desperately needed.

It was all beginning to become too much for the counselor: Max’s abandonment, closing down the camp, the imprisonment of his childhood hero, and the prospect of being forced into starting an entirely new life. He could feel the familiar tightness increase in his chest with each vehicle that made its trip down the dirt path away from Camp Campbell for the last time. The tale tell sign of an all too common panic attack creeping closer. One by one the children left with unsympathetic parents in tow, and little in the way of proper goodbyes. Most just gave a quick ‘thanks’ or ‘see you’ before leaving. A few, though, opted for the more conventional half-hearted hug and empty promises to keep in touch. Those made David feel slightly better about the situation, helping to slow his quickening breath even if they were lies. It seemed to him that everyone had already made their true farewells while he and Gwen had attempted to make Max happy at the pizzeria. To prove that there was some good in the world. Though now even David was finding it easier to see Max’s cynical side of things. That was at least one good thing about that day: He’d made Max happy if only for a moment. 

When they had returned to camp everyone made quick exits. Gwen stayed the longest making sure David had it together. She left with a hug and a reminder that everything would be ok. He hoped so anyway.

So this is where they were now: The two of them standing much like they had started the summer, side by side under the camp’s decrepit entryway, looking down the road to the outside world. Only, now it wasn’t a large yellow bus that held their attention but the retreating cars. Their taillights illuminating the trails of fine dirt hanging behind each in the low evening sun.

When the last car had made the turn onto the main road and Nikki’s wild green curls disappeared around the wall of pines, Max’s hand came shamefully out of his hoodie pocket and slipped inside David’s to grab onto the space between the man’s thumb and forefinger. It didn’t squeeze back making Max look up at the counselor thinking he’d been wrong to do something so personal with someone he’d tormented for so long and still expect comforting.

There were a few tears in David’s eyes as he looked down the road. Something unwilling to be denied squeezed his hand repeatedly. He wasn’t paying attention and snapped out of his stupor to look at the boy dumbly. When he saw that it was Max who had grasped ahold of him there was a brief moment of confusion. Not an hour ago the boy had threatened death at the quick embrace he’d given David outside the restaurant. Now he was openly holding his hand looking defiant, but behind that was the vulnerability David knew to look for when determining if Max was serious in a situation. The boy’s face said indifference but his eyes looked terrified. David hated that look, especially on his favorite camper. Ex-camper he supposed which tightened his throat again but suppressed it. He was angry, a word he hardly ever used to describe himself, at the world for putting Max in these circumstances; but the way Max held onto him quickly changed anger to concern as he closed his fingers around Max’s. Despite the weak sobs he was happy to have someone here making the moment feel not as lonely. 

“What’s going to happen now?” Max asked looking on the verge of not necessarily crying but emoting more than he’d want.

David knew that question was coming but it didn’t lessen his inability to answer it. He wasn’t about to lie to Max over something this serious, but that didn’t mean he had to be cold about it. He would break it as easily as possible. Break Max as easily as possible. 

“Well,” he said kneeling down so that they were at eye level and doing an alright job of returning that signature smile. “Max, we had to make a phone call… to people who can help you. People who specialize in this sort of… thing.” He paused not wanting to go too fast and allowing Max to share his feelings.

To Max’s credit he didn’t look as taken aback as David had anticipated. Once again defying expectations. If anything he looked annoyed. “No shit David. I’m not stupid.” He stepped back from the man and gestured around. “I meant what are we gonna do while we wait?” 

The counselor had been instructed to remain with Max until a social worker could be sent the following business day, or he could be deposited with local law enforcement, whichever was more convenient. It was almost as if he was asked to pick up milk after getting the dry cleaning. As if something like this could ever be considered convenient for anyone. Spending a weekend in a cold concrete hut only to be taken away to god knows where never to be seen again didn’t sound like it would be appealing in the slightest. So of course he would watch Max until the proper authorities arrived, people who were trained in this sort of thing and knew what was best. He was very proud Max was being so mature about the whole thing. 

“We can do whatever you want of course!” He said with genuine enthusiasm. Max looked unimpressed now.

“How long do we have to wait? Cause if it’s gonna be as long as I think it is then I doubt your phone is going to be enough entertainment,” he said.

David rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Just till Monday. Think you can handle that?” He ruffled Max’s hair playfully. It felt good to act like everything was fine, they knew it wasn’t but they didn’t really have any choice except to go right back to old dynamics.

“Of course I can ‘handle it,’” he made air quotes with his fingers before returning them to the safety of his hoodie. “I doubt you will though.” Max wondered why he acted this way, so mean at everything. David was in all likelihood the only person that had, was, and will ever give a shit about him. He just couldn’t help it sometimes. Anger was a great defense against disappointment.

David sighed. The sun had set. The camp looked eerie in the dark knowing it was so empty. You almost expected something to be going on behind the tents or in the buildings. The place reminded him of a hospital, how you never wanted to go in one of those and find out it was empty.

“David?”

“Yes, Max?”

Whatever it was that Max had wanted to say his emotions didn’t give him the chance and just replied dryly, “Nothing. I’m tired so… goodnight. I guess,” then headed for the tents.

“Max, wait!” David yelled stopping the boy. When Max turned around to look at him again David continued, wringing his hands unsure of a multitude of things with relation to what he was going to offer. “You don’t have to stay in your tent. You could sleep in the cabin. Only if you wanted to, of course.

Max turned back to the tent considering it for a moment. Of course he didn’t want the damn tent. Sleeping on an old couch didn’t sound like too much fun either especially since both locations would be just as cold and uncomfortable. Then he had an idea and faced David again.

“Sure,” he said nonchalantly. David beamed a huge smile and they both set off past the mess hall.


	2. Boiling Point

The walk back to the counselor’s cabin was a short one only in distance. Max’s mind was rolling with a battle plan he’d been working on for years. He wasn’t an idiot. David might have thought he was sparing Max by not explicitly saying he’d called CPS, but the reality was easy enough to see if you weren’t blind to it. He only had a few days to get away.  


Max decided a while back that he was a hundred times better off on his own. He’d been learning to hustle since his fifth birthday and actually managed a pretty good haul of “gifts”. Things took a turn the moment he stepped of the bus at Camp Campbell though. When his parents had first abandoned him there for the summer, he was sure this would be the place. He hadn’t thought they would make it permanent so at this point the thing was moot. Camp Campbell was a better vehicle than most to get the fuck out and disappear.  


Would David come with him though? Fuck it, he’d cross that road when they came to it. A weekend was plenty of time.  


The cabin door hung open on a single hinge. The frame at one side splintered inward, and bits of it stuck up like needles in the welcome mat. The place had been turned upside down, and most of the floor was covered in thrown about blankets, clothes, papers, and basically everything the counselor relied on for a home life. David probably had his own campsite somewhere around Lake Lilac so this couldn’t have been everything. Max hoped so anyway because David had so little as it was, just like him. It was a mess. The Law had had its way with anything that could have held incriminating evidence against Cameron.  


“Damn,” Max said. “I didn’t think this place could look any more depressing.” He regretted the words the moment the left his mouth. David was looking more and more fragile by the minute and while Max was aware of his own weakened state from today’s events, his anxiety was nothing compared to the older man’s.  


They took in the scene, still standing in the broken doorway before both their eyes drew toward the center of the space where a beaten wooden wing peeked up from a pile of yellow t-shirts. It didn’t seem possible, but David slumped even further into himself. Anymore, and Max was sure he’d be burying the man in plot out back, a tombstone saying he’d died of a broken soul at the head of the shallow grave.  


The totem was face down, partly in a puddle of matte red. A spilled candle warmer laying nearby. Slowly, David made his way through the mess and went on his knees. One of them ending up in the wax, not a single part of his brain thinking of it staining his skin as he carefully picked up the staff. He held it in his lap looking over the wooden bird reminding Max of the way he’d seen David cradle a small bundle he’d found in the forest on one of their previous hikes; limply and mourning the loss, entirely aware that there was nothing that could be done to save the still mass of fur. That was the first time Max had the inkling that he felt for the man more than a thing to torture.  


Walking over, Max reached out, hesitated, and then put his hand on David’s shoulder. Seeing the state of things had the ex-counselor’s face falling faster than he gained the will to haul it back up. It took Max moving into his field of vision again to remind him that making these last days count to Max was more important feeling sorry for himself.  


“Yeah, they really did a number on the place didn’t they?”  


Max knew a rhetorical question when he heard one, but he also didn’t want the situation to devolve into silence again.  


“Yup, sure did,” he said flatly. “You could just say fuck it, and burn the thing down.”  


“Max…”  


“Yeah, yeah. Language. I’m sure as hell not following that rule now. I hope you know that. Besides,” he picked up a few pages on the floor and flipped through them while he spoke. “It’s not like it matters now.”  


Why did he always do this, always had to devolve into cynicism and general melancholy bullshit just to get through even the simplest of emotional situations? Just as much as he wanted more than anything to get closer to other people, and see them as something to find comfort in rather than sadness, the other parts of him refused to back an inch away from the Maginot Line of fortifications that made-up his social barriers. As hard as he tried and begged with his subconscious to find the hope to let people in, even with David he had to keep up his guard. Now was the worst time to remind David the life he’d built was over.  


Max stared through the pages, lost in thought. It wasn’t just the wrong thing to say to David, it was the wrong thing to say to himself. It reminded him that his life was over too.  


One second his eyes were vaguely aware of the blurred lines on the white paper, and the next David had walked over, taking the pages out of Max’s hand and letting them fall back into the mess. He kneeled back down again grasping both of Max’s upper arms firmly, but with not a hint of aggression. Max flinched at the touch out of habit even knowing that David wouldn’t hurt him.  


They stayed that way for several moments, looking into each other’s eyes. Max managed to break first and buried his face in David’s neck letting his eyes empty themselves for the second time that day.  


“You didn’t say the fucking government you ass! I fucking know my parents aren’t coming, but Jesus, you thought it was a good idea to dump me in the SYSTEM!” How quickly David was able to dismiss his own god awful experiences. Max’s voice was a roar that broke several times with a mix of rage and heartbreak he had never felt. David didn’t just abandon him as well, he did it in the worst way possible. His cries soon devolved to sobbing babbling and David did his best to comfort the boy rubbing small circles in his black curls and letting his kerchief turn dark with tears.  


To David’s credit he didn’t follow the boy down the path of sorrow and instead had his protective instincts, underdeveloped as they were, turned to Maximum. He offered words of comfort between cries and did his best to be there for his camper. A shoulder to cry on was sometimes more important than a voice of reason.  
Sniffing twice, Max untangled himself and stepped back. David’s smile wasn’t his usual beam, but it was no less warm and inviting.  


“I don’t want to be taken away, please.” Is this what it’s come to? Begging? Has all his bravado and chest-puffing done nothing to give him a fucking backbone? Yes, because as much as he hated to admit it, and gods be damned he’d only do that in the worst of times, he was just a kid. A kid more mature than anyone else his age had a right to be, but a kid none the less. His only weakness was that he hadn’t had the time to build his defenses higher. That was the only difference; age. His body not able to exist on the same plane as his mind which in all likelihood was at least twice as ready for the world as David. David just had access to more ways to cope.  


“Max… Max, I,” He tried to put his words in order but they flat out refused to form in a way that sounded right. So instead he just had to be honest.  


“This situation is not at all perfect. It seems like everything that could have gone wrong today did, and all we can do now is try our hardest to keep going forward. Your wellbeing is my only concern,” he gripped tighter and set his jaw, looking at nothing but into Max’s meadow green eyes. “My only concern.” He put his soul into the emphasis of ‘only’. If anyone could actually put their own agenda aside and focus wholeheartedly on someone else then David was the one to do it.  


“You are the single most important person to me that has ever come through Camp Campbell, and I will only do what is best for you.” He paused again, waiting for his words to stick before continuing. Important to him, Max thought.  


“But,” David continued. Of course, there was always a ‘but’. As fast as Max’s heart had risen, it fell just as hard. “I have to make sure you are taken care of. This is what that means, getting you to a place where people with the means can make sure you have everything you need to be successful. I just… I can’t, Max. I—  


“You could David! We could just, I don’t know, leave. There’s nothing stopping that right now, not for a few days anyway.” Max gabbed David’s hand and tried to pull him to the door. David didn’t move.  


“Max…” There it was again. That look of inability, no control. “I’m sorry. This is just how it has to be. We can still make the best of it though, right? This weekend?”  


He was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Make the best of it.  


Sorry to say, but you’ve got cancer Mr. Doe. Might as well make the best of it.  


You’re starving but at least you’ve a roof over your head.  


Make the best of it.  


Before David could react Max put all his weight into a full-force shove that sent the man reeling back into the mess. The crack of shattering wood sounded deafening in the space as David’s weight came down hard on the already damaged Staff of the Sparrow. When David looked up from the shattered remains, Max was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned for this chapter to be a decent amount longer, but after several revisions I decided to keep it simple. most if not all future chapters will be over the over the 2000 word mark. Also, and this is most important, this chapter is for Bleblen.


	3. Falling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has only one feeling he has never, and will never share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update comes to you courtesy of a caffeine induced writing session in which I maintained total focus for five hours. Enjoy boys. -EDIT- I changed David's confession.

No.  


He repeated the word aloud, over and over again in a mantra as the forest of trees grew before him, and disappeared behind. Low branches cut into his freckled cheeks making them sting with perspiration and the contorting of his features.  


“Max,” he called again. The trees were dark and cast even blacker shadows this way and that making figures of monsters play across the hiking trail.  


It was one of the beginner courses, long and winding meant for slow strolls through the campground’s outer property. The intermediate trails connected with these further in, and beyond those were the steep falls and rocky adventures to be had on the expert trails. David had just managed a glimpse of the boy as he started into the forest, blind with anger and fear, heading north to the heart of the Sleepy Peak Mountains.  


“No, no, no, no, please.” David said.  


Faster his feet smacked and dug into the forest floor turning up clod. The layer of pine needles made it hard for the old boots to get purchase and only aided his flailing into the cutting branches.  


“Oh god, oh god.”  


He wasn’t keeping it together, not at all. Max was, who knows where. In the forest at night, alone and angry. He’s going to get lost. He’s going to die!  


David stumbled and fell to his knees. They began to bleed, black liquid in the dark clinging to decaying debris. His heart was turning over. It pulled at all his veins twisting them into a painful knot. It was a panic attack, and it was his own fault if it would kill him. Any one of a hundred horrible things could happen now.  


The air was cold. It felt harsh inside his lungs having to force its way past a tightening throat. His whole chest felt consumed in the pit of his own despair and that any moment now it would swallow him up, like the forest had done to Max.  


“MAX!” He screamed. “Come back, Max!”  


He must have missed a turn in the trail. He’d tracked small game for miles in harsher terrain. Max was no rabbit, but he was scared all the same. He would follow a path, leave signs that David could see. Getting control was the only thing that would save him, that would save Max. He had to find the trail.  


Snap.  


Back the way he’d came, somewhere before the turn to the harder trail. He thanked the stars he’d heard the breaking branch between his labored breaths and turned back. Max was close. So close in fact that the boy watched from his place of cover as David turned from the path and headed back the way he’d thrown the rock. Fuck him, it should have hit him in the head.  


Now unfollowed, Max headed deeper in.  


“Fuck him, fuck him,” he had his own mantra. Steeped in hate and heartbreak he let it consume him. He ran at first for several minutes, then his legs became unsure, his feet sore from the uneven wilderness.  


“Fuck them not wanting me. Fuck being wanted,” he half cried. His feelings a tornado inside barely contained. He laughed, he swore, he didn’t believe you could feel so many sort of ways about a particular thing, and that the firestorm could fuel itself. Fear to anger, anger to hate, hate to sorrow. No real plot or reason to it, just pain.  


When he could no longer run, he walked. Longer still he moved ever deeper into the forest, uncaring the distance traveled and destination unknown. Moving put him further away from the pain. It was an anti-journey, a retreat. By the time he’d passed the cautionary signs and markers, he was lost in the quiet of his pitying contemplation and the trail.  


David thought he’d neared the place of the sudden noise. He looked for signs of wear and anything disturbed, but the leaves were unbothered, the branches all intact. Several feet away, a wide rock lay out from the floor of brown needles. He used that feature as the central point from which he spiraled out hoping to pick out the faintest clue of Max. The steel toe of his boot knocked into a hardness that rested on top of the fallen foliage. No detail was too small as he bent and retrieved the stone. It was damp and smooth. He heard the gentle stream in his memory of losing the trail, when he was drawn away by a breaking branch, fooled by a thrown stone striking another.  


“Max,” he affirmed. He’d lost too much time as it was  


Unbeknownst to the boy, he was trekking along an area of the forest seen only half a dozen times a year by seasoned trailblazers seeking to reach the most unspoiled regions of Oregon’s nature. The ratty soles of his too small sneakers were finding less and less sure footing. Having to rely on his hands to keep close to the walls of the narrowing trails, Max was brought out of his stupor too soon.  


“Couldn’t even fucking run away right. All that planning and getting together supplies just to fucking forget it all because you can't think straight,” he berated himself further, not willing to allow his mood to rise for a second. “Mr. Honeynuts,” he said as he stopped. The bear was still on his cot, left behind in the sudden outburst.  


“Fucking David,” he clenched his fists.  


Just then a gust of night air had him shivering. In wrapping his arms around his middle, he had let go of the wall that had been steadying him and felt the shifting of his center of gravity threatening to send him over the edge and down the dark outcropping of jagged rock evident of a place prone to slides. Wilderness Safety Camp be damned. He hugged the wall again and fought through the chilling wind that had quieted to a breeze.  


Soon though it was clear; the trail ahead was intended to be passed with climbing equipment. Notches for anchors and a coating of white powder were all signs that only the well-equipped and the athletic made it any further.  


David’s belt was all he needed to cross the path. The buckle doubled as a carabineer, and the para-cord braid made a sturdy “Swiss Seat”. This is what he was best at. Prepared for all things wilderness. The well-rehearsed choreography of his training helping keep the impending panic from his mind. Slow is steady, and steady is fast. If he could find Max-  


Oh god.  


When he finds Max, he corrected, he’ll make it alright. He’ll make everything okay.  


From experience David knew that on ahead was a rappelling section. Max had to be between here and there. The lines of disturbed forest floor from short, shuffling steps told him there was nowhere else the boy could be. Now he feared the signs of Max would just end, that a gust of wind or poorly placed step would have sent him tumbling below.  


Pride was a powerful demon. It told Max to double down, that he’d made it this far. What did he have to lose? Not a fucking thing.  


Max made it halfway across before the cold stone turned his fingers to ice.  


He was moving only an inch at a time having to blow on his trembling hands to keep them gripping. His arms were starting to burn and his legs were just as aching. He wondered how hard it would be to just let go.  


David saw the boy as he came around the rock face, low and tucked partly in a small depression.  


“MAX,” he yelled.  


Bad move. The yell was startling, and Max visibly pin-wheeled his arms in an attempt to right himself. The boy smacked his forehead cramming his body back into the crag.  


“FUCK YOU,” the boy screamed back. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”  


Max’s position was precarious enough without David making it worse. He couldn’t get any closer without pressuring Max into trying to get away. Unlike him, the boy couldn’t see the path ahead and how it ended. Max would try to step to the next jutting stone, but he would have to step down onto it and that would mean he couldn’t step back up the way he’d come.  


“Stay there Max, please. I can get you.” He tried keeping his voice calm, reassuring. “Just stay there, don’t move.”  


“Fuck you. I don’t need your help. I don’t need anybody. I’M FINE,” he roared and that was all it took.  


The blue hood caught on the outcrop he’d been standing on. It ripped, but gave him time to twist his body and grab hold of another ledge further down. The rock was sharp and dug into his skin. He held though, safe again for the time being.  


David was directly above by the time Max stilled again. His body straining against the tight harness to reach as low as he could.  


Max thought he’d died. The way his stomach fell away at the drop was sickening. He saw his entire, short, depressing life flash before his eyes just like they said it did. Reliving it all made him ease the muscles of his left hand until it no longer supported his meager weight. The other held on, stubborn.  


“You’re okay, you’re okay. Don’t let go. I’m here,” David was pleading, almost frantic. Still he couldn’t reach the boy and saw the way his curls hid the freighted eyes.  


Max looked up. He saw the moon high overhead and its brightness made it hard to see David’s features. The man’s face looked wet; blood, sweat, and tears all mixed together. To Max it just looked like he’d been crying, like he always was.  


“If I let you help me, it’s just going to be more of the same,” Max said. His remaining hand loosened a little more. Reality was beating the fight out of him.  


“No. No, no, no, Max. You have to have hope,” he was edging himself closer with every word. He had to keep Max there, he could reach him. “We can go back to camp and make everything okay.”  


It all sounded the same to Max and another finger gave up its fight. He was so fucking sure David would have been the one, the one who could’ve made it all not seem like so much shit. But seriously, not even David wanted him.  


“Why?” Max said.  


David didn’t hesitate to move closer masking the motion with words. “Because nothing seems as bad after the fact. Please, Max. I don’t want you to get hurt.”  


More lies, another finger. The ones that were left were getting tired. So was he.  


“No.” He said. “And I swear to god, David for fuck's sake don't lie. I mean, why can’t YOU have just taken care of me? The fuck is so bad that even you wouldn’t jump at the idea of dealing with me for a while longer?”  


He’d never told anyone, not a soul. David had kept one secret most of his adult life. It was one he had every intention of taking to the grave. Of the entire world, there was no one worse to confess such a thing.  


“Because…” The words caught in his mouth. Max slipped further away, a single finger holding him against the steep wall. The movement made up David’s mind and he blurted out-  


“Because I can't guarantee I won't fall in love with you, Max.”  


The words hung in the air. Saying them made him want to vomit. Why? It wasn't explicitly bad, but the implications alone made him want to slit the line and fall face first to the jagged crop of stone below. He’d give his life to make Max happy, but he couldn’t do that outside of camp. One wrong thought out of place and he would never live it down. Max would be safer with someone who might not care as much as they should, but he would safe and provided for.  


Max didn’t miss a beat.  


“SO?” he planted his hand firmly again but said nothing else. David wondered if he was expecting the man to say more, and when the boy stayed silent, David pressed on getting a few inches closer while Max was distracted.  


“So that’s why you can’t stay with me, Max. There are a million more people better suited to it, better parents,” He was getting tired as well. His sweating hands were sliding on the thin cord. He wrapped it around his palm once and zeroed in on Max’s hand a few inches from his own. “I don’t want you to ever get hurt!”  


David lunged. Max fell.  


The boy’s shoulder exploded in pain, part for the ache it had acquired holding him to the rock face, and now because David grabbing his wrist brought his body’s sudden descent to a quicker halt, jarring him. He hadn’t meant to let go, at least not then, but now that he was stopped he took a hard look at the man with his life in his hands.  


Blood, sweat, and tears. David gave it all. He’d have given so much more if needed. He feared himself above all others.  


David pulled again. With one arm he cradled Max against his hip and shimmied along the wall back the way they’d come. Max held on to the man, staring at nothing, forced once again to face the mass of grey lines that made up reality. He was still upset, but also not. He felt unsure, mostly about David who was a picture of professionalism as he ferried them back to stable ground, both hands holding Max as sure as one could without using too much effort.  


When they came near to the stream, Max was returned to the ground. David stood before him saying nothing but holding out his hand before Max who after a time, took it. They walked back in silence. David never taking his eyes from the trail, and Max who stole glances when he thought he could.  


The cabin was still a mess when they returned. David walked them straight through it, past the remains of the Sparrow, and to his bedroom where he placed Max at the foot of the bed. He quickly went about gathering the linens and pillows from the floor and turned down the mattress in a few quick movements. He turned to Max again and kneelt before him taking off the boy’s shoes. When he’d finished he stayed kneeling for a moment and seemed to consider something, then stood and went to the door. He stepped through and pulled it almost shut behind him before turning again and looking back to Max who hadn’t budged from the spot he was placed.  


“I’ll be out here if you need me. Goodnight, Max.”


End file.
